The Incident
by Moiranne Rose
Summary: After AC: All they ever wanted was to lead a simple, quiet life. After a phone call and a series of horrifying murders rocks Gaia, Tifa and Cloud have to find out who's behind it, or risk being the next victims. CloTi on the side.
1. Prologue

**The Incident**

**All they ever wanted was to lead a simple, quiet life. After a phone call and a series of murders near Edge rocks Gaia, Tifa and Cloud have to find out whose behind it, or risk being the next victims. CloTi on the side.**

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**The rampage of the plot bunnies hit my next favourite pairing, Cloti!**

**Oh yes, and in this AUish fic, there is no Dirge of Cerberus. So sorry, but since I haven't played it, I don't know what happened, so it won't affect the story if I don't put it in...right?**

**And this is the kind of thing that comes only when you aren't looking for it and trying to study.**

**Ack, rambling, enjoy my freaky darlings, and remember that reviews are always welcomed.**

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It was after the Healing Rains had come and washed away the Geostigma. It was after miraculous resurrection of Cloud in the Church. It was after Denzel was healed. It was after all of this, that I hoped, maybe, our lives could go back to being normal.

And that was a year ago.

But, whether it's fate, or just Cloud always looking for trouble, we never settled down properly. As if we're two parallel lines, hardly separated by a hair, but moving on for eternity on different wavelengths, and never meeting at a single point.

I used to think we'd marry and have kids and spend our days relaxing in the comfort of a sure love. So much for the childish Nibelheim fantasies. He can only think about how he has to get all the deliveries to their respective places, how the Church needs to be fixed, how he needs to slip out of Edge "once in a while" to think.

Don't get me wrong, It's not like I want him to be with me, so he can't feel anything else. I'm trying my best to believe that he'll finally realize that things move on, even when he hasn't. That maybe, in the future, we could finally stand together, on the same page and understand each other, for once.

And there are some days where I can fool myself long enough that that's what's going to happen. Soon, I tell myself, soon, he'll realize. Not now, but soon.

But before Soon came, on the 25th of October, last month, the Firendell Incident came into play.

Right now, it's still happening.

And my relationship with Cloud is the least of my worries.

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_25__th__ of October_

_It all started, like most things, with a phone call._

_The speaker on the phone was hardly recognizable, but the fear in his voice was hardly unfamiliar._

"_...Hello..." The distinctly male voice was hoarse, like he'd been screaming for hours._

"_Yes? Who is this?" My caring side sprung out with a vengeance. There were screams in the background, and maniacal laughter, and a crash. I pushed the phone closer to my ear, straining to hear._

"_Sir? Sir! What's happening?" No matter that I was in a crowded bar, hardly having time to do anything but take orders, this man was in trouble, deep trouble._

"_...He's coming..." His muffled tone nearly drowned out by a shrill shriek and a gunshot._

"_He's coming...HE'S COMING!" His voice raised to a shout._

"_Who? Who's coming? Sir? Tell me where you are!" My voice raised to a scream._

"_Save us. Please. My daughter's only 2! He's already gotten my wife..." there was the sound of terrified sobbing. "Please..." His voice was still hardly more than a whisper._

"_Speak up, Sir! Who is this?"_

"_No. He'll kill me if he knows I called you. Please, just get help." There was the sound of a door coming off its hinges._

_There was an intake of breath. The phone clattered to the ground, and then there was a loud gunshot as the phone line went dead._

_The people around me in the pub were oblivious, and continued demanding drinks. I numbly put down the phone and went to attend to them._

_My stomach churned horribly at the sounds that brought back terrible memories._

_What happened?_

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The following day, nothing happened, so I tried to dismiss the haunting voice from my head. It hadn't been anything. It hadn't _meant _anything.

The day after that proved me wrong. A front-page news report covered the mysterious deaths of a Samuel, Geneve (both aged 28) and Alayra Tayn (aged 2), near Fort Condor. Their house had been burnt down, without a stick of furniture anywhere. And this had all been done without anyone seeing. Not until 12 pm the next morning, when Samuel Tayn had not shown up for an important meeting, that his superiors sensed something was amiss, and called for people to go and check on him.

They hadn't expected to find his country cottage, that occupied a large ranch fifty miles from Fort Condor, to be burnt to the ground with him and his whole family inside.

My heart nearly stopped beating. That was _him_. The man who called that night.

He had called me. A man who was about to die had called here, Seventh Heaven. For what?

I didn't know it then, but that was the start of an Incident that would shake Gaia as badly as the Geostigma Incident had. It would come to be known as the Firendell Incident. A series of brutal murders that would slowly get closer to Edge, too close for comfort.

And unbeknowst to me then, it would take nine more lives before anyone did anything about it.

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**A/N: Dark? I know. But I decided on something more plot-centric, with a dash of romance on the side. Tell me what you think. Reviews are always welcomed.**

**MR (still not begging, just wishing)**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: MR here. This is the (FINALLY) next chapter. This should be classified as Suspense/Horror, but don't worry, the examinations end tomorrow, so I'll be writing a LOT more. Thanks goes out to Nentikobe. The review spurred me into action!  
**

**Enjoy darlings!**

**MR**

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Warnings: This chapter consists of a good helping of suspense, thrill, angst, an ample dollop of fear on Tifa's part, and a cliffhanger.

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_2__nd__ November_

_I was just finishing the last of packing the groceries away. Denzel's safely upstairs, he's doing his homework, I've checked. I sit down at the counter and pull out some accounting books that I stashed away the last time I refused to do them._

_As if on cue, to save me from doing any of the ghastly accounts, the doorbell rings. I smiled as the postman delivers his daily stack of mail. Mostly, they're Cloud's, whether fan mail from all around the country, or delivery requests. I sift through and I find, strangely enough, one that's addressed to me. There's no return address, simply my name and address scribbled hastily over a crumpled, slightly stained envelope._

_I turn the envelope over, and pull it open, feeling the seal give way easily to my hardened hands. The circular disk of wax comes off with the top flap. I smile slightly at the surprising "luck", it's the first time the seal came out perfectly._

_I think it's probably from Cid. No one I know has that bad a handwriting. It's hardly thick, probably a short note Shera must have made him sit down and write. It would be probably some engineer jargon I couldn't understand._

_I laugh lightly, thinking of the loud, crude Captain being ruled by his quiet, demure wife. It was Shera's idea to write each other every week, that AVALANCHE shouldn't break apart just because we've disbanded. That we shouldn't forget our relationships just because we've stopped fighting evil, ShinRa or Sephiroth._

_Which is funny, because though I continue to have the friendships with everyone else, the one person from AVALANCHE that I stay with, Cloud, is the only person I've been distanced from._

_I remove the letter, a small slip of notebook paper. It's blank, except for a scrawled line, "Revenge is sweet." I stare at the line, reading it over and over again. When I flip the page over to see if there's anything written on the other side, I detect a smell. Something that smells like, the memory's faint, I grasp for it, it eludes me. It smells like barbecues, like when I stood under the ruins of the ShinRa building, like in Nibelheim when Sephiroth went mad. My eyes widen. I recognize the smell. _

_It's smoke._

_Fire._

_Firendell._

_I clutch for the table top to support me, as every part of me groans out._

_"Not...again..."_

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I smooth Denzel's hair back. This Incident, while it's not going unnoticed to Edge's media or its Police Force, is unknown to him. I've made sure. If anything, I must protect from the world till...well, till he can go against it and win. War came to me against my choice, but it would not come to Denzel. In the life of blood and death I've known, he's the last untouched piece of innocence. I know Cloud feels the same, he's put back all his deliveries just to help me get to the bottom of this. We just want our lives to return to the normal again.

I rise from his bed, and I see the picture we took a few weeks ago. Cloud, Denzel and me. We're mismatched, our hair color's not the same. Neither is the way we look, or our outfits. In fact, this wasn't even meant to be taken a photo of. There's Cloud just at the door, he's coming in from a delivery. There's me smiling at him, while he doesn't return it. And then there's Denzel at the bar counter twirling his pen as he puzzles over the next homework assignment.

I run my fingers over it, then hastily stuff them into my pocket as I hear the front door open. It won't do for anyone to see me sentimental. Sentimental over what?

We are no family. We're just a group of misfits, that had to be put together, because no one wanted us. Cloud's the hero, yes, but no one can put up with his moods, except for me. I'm not young, not attractive, not innocent, not vulnerable, hardly desirable by anyone. Denzel's an orphan whom no one wanted. We cling to each other because we're all we've got.

Cloud's boots hit the floor as he runs up the stairs two at a time. I turn as he eases the door open and motions for me to go outside, his face betraying urgency. I move out of the open door and quietly, quietly, close it again.

Cloud couldn't wait till I closed the door. His blue eyes shone in a way I hadn't seen in years. That childish pride, like he'd accomplished something, just like when he'd steal an apple for me from the old lady at the corner house just to get my attention, and he'd be waiting, like a puppy, for a smile, a laugh, some form of acknowledgement.

"I've found something."

And he doesn't need to wait to see a smile, one of my first ones not laced with irony, cynicism and fatigue, appear.

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**A/N: I couldn't help the cliffhanger. And I promise that this story will have a good plot. I've thought it out, but I'm finding it harder to switch between then and now. The next chapter might be set totally in the past, just so you guys cna get the idea of the haunting warnings of the murders that Tifa gets. It will be good. I promise.**

**MR (still not wishing, just begging)**


	3. Chapter 2

**The Incident**

**Chapter 2: Living in Fear**

**Chapter Summary: Things get closer and then further. It seems like the more confusing this becomes, the more apprehensive you are. You're not sure when the next blow will come, and where it will hit.**

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_9__th__ November_

_Another morning after nightmares of screams, fire and gunshots. Whether it's the pictures of the charred house, the message or the phone call, I can't seem to think of anything else. I tried to pass it off as a lone happening. But before long, Denzel saw me nearly faint on his morning breakfast. Three more casualties in Junon had shaken fat journalists, who never had a big story in their life, into action._

_**That's only two times. It's not like the Edge Police can't handle a serial killer. Weren't they the ones who caught Mad Tom last year? They'll catch him, he'll confess, he'll do a life sentence, and it'll all be over.**_

_Looking at how the Edge Police Force were hardly thinking of it anymore than petty crime, I was sure that they had already solved the case. After all, wasn't it just two days ago that they said they had "Made Progress"?_

_The door to Seventh Heaven slammed as I heard Cloud's boots hit the ground fiercely. I came out from the back kitchen with the cup I was cleaning still in my right hand, and a dishrag in the other._

_He panted with exertion, his arm betraying wounds from tussles with Canyon monsters but years with him had taught me that he dealt with fear, pain and self-loathing alone. Like an ashamed animal wanting to lick its own wounds, he's never known that talking and sharing might help more than bottling it all inside. But today, like every other day, I don't tell him that._

_It's hardly 8 in the morning, so he's just finished sending Denzel off for school and one delivery across the Canyon, and has come back for the rest. I smile at him, and I pass him the box that's his next delivery. I tell him it goes to Kalm Town. He hardly spares a nod before he takes it away and leaves the pub. I do not remind myself that that's the 445__th__ time he forgot to say thank you._

_He leaves the morning paper on the side table for me, perfunctory politeness on his part. I mix myself a cup of coffee and set it down on the counter top for another breakfast alone. I clamp my slightly burnt toast between my teeth as I move to the side table and pick up the papers and open them with slight interest._

_The toast falls out of my mouth, and hits the ground with hardly any sound at all. At the same time, I hear Fenrir start up. My mind screams for me to stop Cloud from going. But I can't move. There's only one thought on my mind, a small determined voice,_

_I have to stop this._

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If you think about it now, you'll realize the first few times you see something horrifying happen, it may smack you in the face and do some damage. But just like fighting monsters in combat, it's not long before you know how it feels to be hit down, and you make sure it doesn't happen again. For example, as fearsome as the Bahamut SIN was, it wasn't long before we realize that, like all things, it had its weak points, and after centering our efforts there, it's defeated quickly.

But if you can't tell where the blows are coming from, when they're going to hit, and how much damage they're going to do, it's hard to make sure it's not you they'll hit next.

And now, that's how I'd explain the terror I live in everyday.

Cloud and I have been up for nights on end working on this. We're supposed to be the Planet's heroes. We can't shy away from our duties. We somehow have to live up to the reputation we made for ourselves close to 3 years ago. Though it's only 3 years, it's almost like an age away. We've settled down, with different goals, different ideals. Everything's changed.

Except Cloud.

He's still with me. I know I should be grateful. But somehow, in his eyes, I see a glimmer of longing, for green eyes, brown braids, healing hands. Something I can never hope to give him. I accepted his feelings a long time ago. Although that doesn't mean I don't have the selfish bouts of the "why her?"s and the "why not me?"s.

Cloud, after he brought in the news yesterday, told me he'd gotten an idea. He told me we needed to find a connection between all of them. I agreed. In minutes, we converted the whole bar into a table for compilation of facts and hypothesis statements that we've made over the past weeks. Every time we think we found a link, there's another murder. Once we think we've solved one, another one slaps itself onto our table with the daily papers.

The bar counter holds numerous folders and files containing the evidence we've found over the course of this time. We realised, the killings started on a Monday, the subsequent ones all on the same day. Was there a meaning to it? We have gone to one of the scenes, the one at Junon, sneaking into the premises under the name we made for ourselves 3 years ago. All the pictures and notes we made are on the top of a messy heap of documents.

The last murder was recorded yesterday, I'm still shivering about it. It's all the way in Wutai, but it's the same. The burning, the charred bullets found inside three burnt skeletons. Is there a significance in that too? We've pondered on dates, former jobs, names, patterns, places, anything and everything that could tie these men together. Apart from the fact they all had only one child, nothing else seemed to string them together. We knew, once we found the joining factor, we could narrow the whole of Gaia to a select few people.

We're feverishly working, working and forgetting about everything else. It's like we're working on a deadline. An urgent deadline. As if, in the next week, if we don't get it, come Monday, someone else and their family will die. And it would be our fault.

Will it?

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**A/N: Argh. More procrastination on my part. It's hard trying to write both Tifa's feelings and the mystery. The next chapter will hold the investigation of the scene aforementioned.**

**Sorry!**

**MR (still not begging, just wishing)**


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